


A New Home

by B0NUKA5



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Artist!Newt, Fluff to the max, M/M, Newt is an exchange student, also some swearing, at thomas' house, book nerds, exchangestudent!AU, i love slow, lotr mention, probs slow, the chapters are kind of short, yall know whats gonna happen ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B0NUKA5/pseuds/B0NUKA5
Summary: Newt's family is looking for a new start in America. Before moving though, Newt's mother decides to send Newt to America to make sure that moving is the wisest choice. Newt doesn't want to go, but he does it anyway. And that's how he met the Murphy family, who decide to take him in for the year. And when he sees Thomas...aka ExchangeStudent!AU





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is the first Newtmas fic that I've ever posted online. Hopefully it turns out well! Thanks for reading! :)

        It took the plane ten hours to reach Denver, Colorado. 

        Ten hours sitting in an uncomfortable chair. Ten hours of staring out of the window. Ten hours of restlessness. It drove Newt absolutely crazy. He wished that some family in Boston or New York had taken him in; but, instead, he had to deal with the fact that he was ten hours of a plane ride away from his mother and sister. Away from the only home he ever knew. He knew that this would happen at some point; the whole reason that his mother sent him was that she was looking to move to America anyway. So, he had to take one for the team and go on this long-ass of a plane ride to live with a family he didn't know. Stellar idea, Mum. Stellar.

        When the plane pulled in up to the gate, he was eager to stretch his long legs. He stood up, only to find that he was too tall.  _Bloody hell. What a great start to the trip._ He slowly made his way off of the plane and through customs, quickly becoming more irritable the longer he waited in line.

        By the time he made it through customs, he almost screamed. He hated this already. The crushing realization that he knew nothing about where he was infuriated him and terrified him at the same time. Outside of customs, he stood against a wall, taking a few breaths to calm himself.  _I can't cop out now. I need to just calm down and find them._ He took a final deep breath and got off of the wall, pulling his bags with him as he went. He followed the large crowd of people from his plane and looked for a sign with his name on it and a family behind it.

        When he finally found the sign, there was only a brunette boy holding it. And he was _beautiful_. 

        With his whiskey eyes, chocolate-colored hair, and dark freckles, the boy looked at him quizzically. "Newt?" he asked, a stutter in his voice.

        Newt couldn't help but smile. He stepped towards the boy, his frustration and anxiety fading away. "Hello," he replied. Newt held out a hand, and the boy dropped the sign and shook his hand, firm but gentle, saying, "I'm Thomas. Thomas Murphy."

 

After a few moments of nervous silence, a blonde woman and someone he assumed to be her brunette daughter walked up to the two. They introduced themselves: Ava Paige and Teresa Murphy, respectively. Soon enough, Newt was lead to the Murphy's car, shoving his bags in the trunk and climbing into the backseat. The leather seats were a bit more comfortable than the ones on the plane, and since he had arrived late at night, he thought about attempting to sleep. He didn't, though, not wanting to seem rude to the family he had just met.

        On the way to the house, he glanced at Thomas more than once. He was leaning on the car door, his head on his fist, legs splayed. He stared out of the window, watching the trees on the side of the highway fly past in a blur. Teresa, in the front seat, yawned. She slouched in the seat, her arms folded.

        "So, how was the flight?" Thomas' voice broke the silence, making him jump.

        "Long. Kind of boring, to be honest," Newt replied, one again looking at Thomas. He had turned to face Newt, and he could see a slight smile on his face. "Ten straight hours of sitting."

        "I can't even imagine that," Thomas chuckled. "I've actually never been on a plane before."

        "You aren't missing out on much." Newt smiled.

        "I can't imagine being so far away from home." Thomas smiled a sad smile. "But I'm going to college in two years, so I guess that'll change." He yawned. "I don't know how you're doing this."

        "I don't know either, really." Newt had the urge to tell him the reason behind the whole trip, but stopped himself. _I shouldn't open up too fast. He'll think I'm too sappy._ He was cut off anyway, as the car parked in the driveway of a sizable house. 

        "Yay, we're home," Teresa said, yawning. Everyone unbuckled and got out of the car.

        "You want me to grab anything?" Thomas offered, walking to the back of the car. 

        "That would be bloody brilliant, thanks," Newt replied, going to grab some of his things. The two carried the bags up to the house and in. They walked into a large living room, where a brown-and-white shetland sheepdog came running up to Thomas. Thomas knelt down to rub the dog, cooing at it. Newt giggled. "What's his name?"

        "Buddy," Thomas and Teresa stated. "A, uh, younger relative named him," Teresa continued, also kneeling to pet the dog.

        Buddy made his way around the two to Newt, whom he started sniffing like a madman. Newt leaned down to pet the dog. "Hey, Buddy," he muttered, rubbing the top of the dog's head. Newt looked up to see Thomas turned and smiling at him.

        "Looks like he likes you," he commented, standing up. "C'mon, I'll show you your room." Thomas lead Newt across the room to another doorway. After the threshold was a bathroom to the left and a bedroom straight ahead. The two walked into the bedroom, placing the bags on the floor by the bed. When Thomas had put down his share, he said, "I'm going to bed. If you need me, I'll be upstairs." He bit his lip. "'Night."

        Newt smiled, finding the gesture oddly cute. "Alright. Goodnight."

        With that, Thomas left the room.

        Newt kicked off his sneakers.  _He seems like a nice bloke_ , he thought, throwing off his socks. He lay down on his new bed, getting under his new covers, his head on his new pillow.  _I'm here. I survived the first part._ He closed his eyes, and soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short. I just wanted the first chapter to be a "testing the waters" kind of thing. Thanks for reading!


	2. Twelve

        Newt awoke to the sound of a dog barking. For a few moments, he felt a pit in his stomach, not recognizing the sound of a dog bark and the room around him. Then, he remembered that he had finally made the move to America. He sighed lightly, sitting up in his bed. He began to smell the aroma of pancakes in the air.  _Guess I woke up just in time for breakfast_ , he thought, slowly getting out of bed.

        When Newt stepped out into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was Thomas sitting on the floor with Buddy, ruffling the dog's hair. Newt watched as the boy ruffled the sides of the dog's neck, kissing the top of its head. When Thomas let go of it, it turned to sniff Newt. "Hey, Buddy," he cooed, kneeling to pet the dog.

        "Morning, Newt," Thomas greeted. Newt looked over to see Thomas watching him pet the dog, a shy smile on his face. He looked to Newt like a puppy himself; with his sheepish grin and dark, curious whisky eyes, Newt wanted to ruffle his hair too. 

        "Morning, Thomas," Newt replied, sitting down in front of the dog. He still felt the soft gaze of the brunette on him as he continued to pet the dog. 

        "So, uh, did you sleep well?" He heard Thomas ask. Newt looked up to see Thomas still watching him pet the dog, which had now taken a seat on his lap. Newt couldn't help but smile- Thomas' shy smile was just too adorable.

        Newt held the dog in his arms. "Yeah, you?"

        Thomas nodded and answered with a small "yeah".

        Suddenly, the dog's head turned, and Newt saw its big brown eyes just before feeling its slimy tongue on his cheek, licking him endlessly. Newt tried to turn away, but the dog followed his movements, continuing to lick him. "Buddy! Get off!" Thomas shouted, and Newt felt Thomas' arms grab the dog. "Sorry about that," he apologized, putting his dog on his lap. "He usually doesn't do that." The dog whimpered in his arms, looking over at Newt. Newt chuckled. 

        Soon after, Thomas' mother called for breakfast. Thomas let go of the dog, and it padded over to Newt as the boy stood up. "Just ignore him, I guess," Thomas said, getting up and sitting at the table. He pushed a chair out for me. "Sit here," he offered, patting the chair.

        "Thank you," Newt replied, smiling. Their eyes met, and Newt smiled again at Thomas, who just looked away. When the pancakes came, Newt grabbed a few and put them on his plate. Thomas followed, and Newt watched him as the brunette took the bottle of syrup and covered the pancakes in the sticky substance. Newt softly chuckled to himself.  _I guess he really likes his syrup._

        Accompanied by creaking stairs and heavy footsteps, Teresa entered the kitchen, taking a seat at the table in front of Newt. "Tom, pass the syrup," she demanded, although the harsh edge was diminished by the strong, groggy tone of her voice.

        "Well, good morning to you, too," Thomas replied, sliding the bottle to Teresa from where he had put it down.

        Teresa took the bottle and smiled at Newt. "Good morning," she greeted. "How'd you sleep?"

        "Pretty good," Newt replied. "Still a tad bit tired, though."

        Teresa shrugged. "Makes sense," she stated, sliding the syrup to Newt. 

        Newt took the syrup, and as he started pouring it carefully, he saw Buddy in his peripheral vision. When he finished pouring the syrup, he placed the bottle down and reached down to pet Buddy. "Does he usually beg?" he wondered aloud, going back to his food.

        "Yeah, sometimes," Thomas answered, shoving a mouthful of pancake into his mouth.

        Newt nodded. "I have cats at home. They're hard to keep off of the table."

        "Our mom always wanted a cat, but my dad hates animals. It took us a long time to convince him to let us get a dog," Thomas explained.

        "Well, someone in our family really,  _really_ begged Dad for a dog. And Dad had a soft spot for him, so we got a dog," Teresa added.

        _Who is this "someone"?_ Newt almost asked, but decided against it. Instead, he nodded, continuing to eat his pancakes. 

 

That afternoon, Newt found himself in the backyard pool with Teresa, floating on top of a beach ball. He was refreshed by the cool water, especially because of the hot August day it was. Newt was content; he hadn't planned on relaxation- he had expected life in America to be demanding and hectic- but when Teresa offered for him to hang out with her in the pool, he couldn't refuse the chance.

         "So, do you swim?" Teresa piped up, treading water beside him.

         "Every once in a while. It's never really scorching hot like this."

         Teresa shot him a look of disbelief. "Scorching hot?" She nearly shouted. "It's eighty-five degrees!"

         Newt panicked for a second, forgetting that she was talking about eighty-five degrees _Fahrenheit_ , not eighty-five degrees _C_ _elsius_. "Uh, yeah," he murmured, unsure of what eighty-five degrees equated to in Celsius.

         "Whatever. It doesn't matter," Teresa stated, changing the subject. "So, what's your favorite season?"

         Newt arched an eyebrow. "Um, autumn?" He replied, confused.  _What a weird question._

         Teresa nodded. "Any siblings?"

          _Finally, a normal question_. "Yeah, I have a younger sister. Her name's Lizzy."

         "How old is she?"

         "Twelve."

         Teresa suddenly went silent. She looked down at the water and swam away, submerging herself underwater and swimming to the other side of the pool.

          _I guess I said something wrong,_ Newt realized. He let go of the beach ball and swam over to Teresa, who had resurfaced at the deep end of the pool. "Hey, I'm sorry-"

         "No, it's fine. It- it's just a personal thing, that's all." She climbed over the edge of the pool. "I think I'm going to head in. You can stay if you want."

         Newt opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He watched Teresa as she walked towards the house and in.  _So there's a boy who's twelve that no one wants to name,_ Newt pondered.  _I wonder who he is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short. I didn't want people to wait that long for the next chapter, but I've been busy and have had a bit of writer's block, so... yeah.  
> I hope you enjoyed it anyway! :)


	3. The Bud

        Newt opened his eyes. The digital clock glowed back at him.

         _3:00 AM_

        Newt sighed, rolling over onto his back. He knew why he was awake- in London, it would have been 10 AM. He wondered if he should stay in bed and try to fall back asleep- he knew that he should be trying to get used to the time zone- but had a gut feeling that he was up for good, until some random hour in the afternoon. He rolled onto his other side, barely making out the outline of his suitcase and other bags on the floor. He frowned, knowing that at some point, he'd have to unpack. He glanced over at the clock and realized that since he was up, he might as well do something useful. He turned on the bedside lamp and rolled out of bed.

        Newt began by lifting his bags onto his bed. Everything was already open since he had taken out a few things the day before- but most of his things were still somewhat neatly packed. He made quick work of his clothes, easily hanging the shirts up in the closet and folding everything else in the drawers of a nearby dresser. He placed his shoes on the floor of the closet, then moved on to the other bags.

        "Newt?"

        Newt swore, jumping at the sound. He turned to see Thomas in the kitchen, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

        "Sorry, I just saw your light on when I walked by," Thomas explained.

        Newt shook his head, his heartbeat starting to return to its normal pace. "No, it's fine. I was just unpacking."

        "At three in the morning?"

        Newt blushed for no reason. "Yeah," he replied, looking over at his bags. He looked back at Thomas before saying, "Did I wake you up?"

        Thomas shook his head and leaned on the door threshold. "Nah, I've been up all night."

        Newt's eyes widened. "All night?" he repeated. He placed his bags on the floor and pulled back the covers on his bed. "Do you think you'll have any luck if you sleep in here?" Newt's heart almost stopped after the words left his mouth. He was used to consoling his sister, but he'd thought that since she wasn't in front of him, he wouldn't make that mistake! _Shit! That was creepy as all bloody hell. Way to go!_ "Oh bloody hell, I'm  _so_ sorry, I don't know what just crossed my mind to say that-"

        "Newt," Thomas interrupted. "It's okay. It's three."

         _It's ten for me_ , Newt nearly blurted out.

        "Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

        Newt stood silent. The Thomas in front of him was a different Thomas than the one that he had had breakfast with the day before. This one was bolder, the kind of bold that Newt loved in a man. His voice seemed more stable, too- like he had once been afraid of Newt, but then had gotten over it. Thomas held his gaze, so unlike the Thomas at breakfast that could barely look at Newt. Newt stared into those whiskey brown eyes of his, taking a deep breath in and saying "No" with more difficulty than was necessary.

        "No, stay," he elaborated, his voice a bit more stable. "I'm just going to finish this." Newt turned to his bags, taking out his tablet and a book. He heard the wrinkle of the sheets as Thomas sat down on them. Newt felt himself blush. Surely, he should not be letting a boy he just met into his room at three in the morning! Especially one that seemed to have so much control over him! He continued unpacking, sometimes glancing over at Thomas, who in turn would hold Newt's gaze until the blonde looked away.

        Newt reminded himself of what had happened last time he had let someone like Thomas take over his life- and it wasn't good. 

        "So, Newt," Thomas began, again making Newt jump. "Sorry."

        "No, no, go on."

        "Are you an artist?"

        "Huh?" Newt looked over in Thomas' direction to see him looking down at one of Newt's sketchbooks- the only one Newt did  _not_ let anyone look at. Horrified, Newt ran over to the book and snatched it. He shoved it into a random drawer. "Sorry. Just, you can touch any of them  _but_ that one," he explained quickly, and he felt himself blushing like crazy.

        Thomas smirked. Another thing that Newt fell for instantly.

        Newt huffed, crossing his arms. "So what about you?" he asked, trying to be as bold as he could.

        "Yeah. I draw buildings and stuff. I like architecture."

        Newt nodded, tentatively sitting down on the bed. He scooted back until he felt Thomas' back against his. The brunette didn't move, and the blonde relaxed. "Thomas, you didn't show up at the pool yesterday."

        "I had some summer work to do."

        Newt smiled, glad he had already finished his. 

        "Will you keep me company next time?"

        Newt felt himself blush for the millionth time. "Yeah," he replied.

        "Newt?"

        "Hm?"

        "Would it be alright if we had a party for you?"

        Newt had to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling too widely. "Absobloodylutely."

 

Newt didn't have time to brace himself before his body hit the freezing water of the swimming pool. His body erupted in chills as he swam to the surface, aching for air and a bit of warmth. Gasping for air, he splashed water in a random direction to get back at whoever had pushed him off of the float.

        When Thomas had asked if he could throw a party for him, Newt hadn't realized that "party" was another word for "everyone he knows at the same house at the same time". Newt appreciated the gesture, but everyone he knew? Every time Newt looked over at the food table, the amount of people there gave him butterflies. Sure, he wasn't exactly  _antisocial_ , but in a place where everything was new, he was terrified. And to relax, Newt found himself a float to lay on. But, obviously, it didn't take long for life to screw him over.

        So, Newt ended up in a splash fight with Thomas and some of his friends. And, soon enough, they had him laughing.

 

Newt ended up being pleased with how the party went. Maybe he got pushed off of that float, but he was glad that he was easily added into Thomas' friend group. Even though he could barely remember any of their names, he loved hanging around with them. That night, they all sat around a fire pit, roasting marshmallows.

        Almost all of them, that is. Everyone but Thomas and some other kid.

        "So Newt," one kid (Minho?) began, popping a marshmallow into his mouth. "How you likin' it so far?"

        "It's good," Newt replied. "I've just been trying to get used to the place."

        "What about the dog?" another kid (Aris?) asked. As if on cue, Newt heard the dog run up to him and saw him jump into his lap. Instantly, the dog began to lick him wherever it could, and Newt struggled to get the dog off of him. Everyone around him started laughing, and it was infectious, and soon Newt was laughing, too.

        The small talk continued until late, and it must have been ten o'clock by the time Newt fully realized that Thomas still hadn't returned from whatever he was doing. Confused, Newt excused himself and made his way to the house, entering through the back kitchen door. In the house, he didn't get very far-something stopped him.

        Some other kid was kissing Thomas.

        It wasn't the fact that Thomas was being kissed that bothered him- it was the  _way_ he was being kissed. It was how Thomas was squished up against the counter, how the other kid's hands dug themselves into Thomas' skin, how Thomas was made to lean backwards over the counter as much as humanly possible. It seemed as if Thomas was touching him softly, but the other one was rough.

        Newt's stomach ached. It ached for Thomas, but more so, it ached for himself- it was the way his own ex had held him, how he had kissed him, and suddenly Newt missed it, missed it so much, but he also never wanted to feel it again. He- and Thomas, from what he was seeing- liked physical attention, and others took advantage of that- like that other kid, and- and-

         _Gally._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooooo sorry that this is late! I had (still still have) some writer's block, but no one deserves to have to wait 7327545473727 years for a fanfic update. Honestly, it would drive me crazy if I didn't upload something soon.  
> Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Text Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally THE WORST with updating omg I'm so sorry

        It wasn't easy for Newt to fall asleep the next couple of nights. He knew that theoretically, his sleep schedule should have started to adjust, but with what happened with Thomas, there was nothing Newt could do that could help him sleep easily.

        His breakup with Gally had been a nightmare for him, to say the least. The two had dated for six months, and the amount of physical contact between them was extensive. The nights spent alone together were long and lustful, and although the two had only ever had sex once, their hands and lips would be all over each other until there was a dire need to separate. Newt had loved all of it, and he had loved Gally's sense of confidence whenever he tried something new. Gally was never afraid to get Newt alone and pleasure him a little- and that was what Newt missed most.

        So when it ended, Newt was devastated. And seeing Thomas and his boyfriend just tore up the wound that was finally starting to heal.

        

        Before Newt knew it, school started. He woke up on the first day feeling like he was going to throw up. Today, he was going to have to meet new people and interact with them, meanwhile trying to learn his way around a completely new school and try not to be late to any of his classes. The anxiety caused him to not remember much about the morning at the house, but when he and the twins got to the building, he knew he would never forget what happened. 

        He would never forget the way Thomas' eyes lit up at the sight of his boyfriend. He would never forget the way Thomas squeezed the boy in his arms, the way his lips pressed against the boy's cheek. Newt couldn't help but admire the two and how close they seemed to be.

        "Hey, Newt, you remember George, right?" Thomas asked, a giggle escaping his lips.

        "Yeah," Newt replied, smiling politely. 

        George gave a small wave before whispering something into Thomas' ear. Newt caught a small frown on Thomas' face, and Thomas pushed away.

        "Alright, let's head in," Thomas said, his smile almost uneasy-looking.

        Teresa and Newt fell back behind the couple as the group walked into the building. The two were quiet, listening to what George had to say, which seemed like everything under the sun. Newt couldn't believe how  _much_ this man talked about himself- all the while not letting Thomas speak more than five words at a time. Newt glanced at Teresa, who just shrugged in response.

        Newt was glad when George had to separate from the group- he didn't know how much longer he could deal with having to listen to his voice drone on and on. Apparently, Teresa felt the same way. 

        "Tom, I don't understand how you just let him drag on like that," she wondered aloud as the three stepped into homeroom. They stopped in a short line of kids who were waiting to get their seat assigned to them. "He doesn't let you talk!"

        "Yeah, but I'm thirsty," Thomas admitted. "There are only so many people who'll kiss me."

        Teresa crossed her arms. "So, you're staying with him with the hope that you'll get in his pants?" She teased, lowering her voice to avoid embarrassing her brother.

        Newt shook his head. "Bad idea," he added.

        And that was the first time Newt felt Thomas  _really_ look at him. Newt felt the brunette's caramel eyes scan him all over. Weirdly, Newt didn't feel small and threatened under Thomas' gaze, like he normally would have; instead, he felt more confident, more assertive, more impressive. It was a weird feeling, and Newt loved it. He somehow knew that Thomas wasn't gazing at him because he was annoyed or angry, it was because he must've _approved_ of Newt. And no other teenage boy had ever made Newt feel as valid as Thomas had. All because Newt had said "Bad idea." 

 

Minutes later, the three were seated, with Newt on the opposite side of the room from the twins. He had been given a locker, a schedule, and he felt the butterflies in his stomach rapidly beating their little wings. He glanced over at Thomas, hoping to send him some kind of SOS message through his expression.

        Oddly, it worked. Thomas got up from his seat in the back and walked over the Newt, and Newt could see the concern written all over his face. "What's up? You're scaring me," he said.

        "I'm nervous as hell." Newt immediately felt humiliated- he  _hated_ admitting to people that he felt weak! Newt ran a hand through his hair, barely noticing Thomas' eyes following the movement. 

        "Let me give you my number," Thomas whispered.

        "You want me to text you in class?" Newt could feel his heart racing. Was Thomas trying to get him into trouble?

        "No, no, just- sometimes, at the end of class, the teachers will let us use our phones." Thomas must have sensed that Newt's panic had not gone down a bit, because he added, "I promise."

        And for some reason, some  _bloody_ reason, Newt trusted him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is short I need to work on being able to write longer chapters smh


	5. Peach

        That Friday, Newt came home wanting to puke. 

        Sure, he did know at least one person in every class, and yeah, Thomas had given him his cell number, but the stress of the new environment was almost too much for him to handle. On top of that, Thomas would also lock himself in his room all night after school, and hanging out with Teresa had proved to be a bit awkward. For some reason, Newt always found himself just about to ask Thomas to hang out with him after school- but when he had caught the brunette's attention, he would just mutter a sheepish "hi" or something dumb like that.

        Friday after school, Thomas' mother, Ms. Paige, had come to pick up Newt and Teresa; Thomas was going to get a ride from Minho after his track practice. Newt sat alone in the backseat of the car, not really listening to Teresa tell her mother about her day. Newt was able to pick up a few minor things, though, like that the drama club was looking for new members and that Thomas was known for the set design and stage managing.

        "How was your day, Newt?" He barely heard Ms. Paige ask him.

        Newt shrugged. "Fine," he replied. "Nothing unusual." Really, though, he was  _tired_. He was physically tired from not fully adjusting to the time zone. He was mentally tired from the sudden amount of schoolwork thrust at him compared to the relaxing summer. And, most of all, he was emotionally tired from the social norms he had to conform to. He found himself wanting a close companion- someone he could cuddle up next to and just cry about what was bothering him, and someone who would rub him and kiss him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. He knew he was overreacting, but he just felt  _awful_.

        "Is George coming over this weekend?" Teresa asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

        "I don't know, Teresa," Ms. Paige replied, obviously uninterested.

        "God, I hope not."

        "Be nice, Teresa."

        The car pulled into the driveway. Newt felt himself get out of the car and walk inside the house. He felt himself shut his bedroom door and throw his bag down, kick off his shoes. Then, he retreated to his bed, burying himself as far under the covers as he comfortably could. He closed his eyes and willed himself to pretend that the warmth of the covers was coming from someone else.

        But he couldn't. No voice was there to whisper words of encouragement. No hands were there to massage him. No lips were there to show him that he was loved. And with those thoughts, Newt found himself crying.

 

Newt awoke, his stomach growling with hunger. It took him a few seconds to realize that he had never eaten dinner.  _It must be around ten,_ he thought, digging himself out from under the covers. He looked over at his alarm clock, and he almost shot up in surprise.

_2:07 AM_

        "Shit," Newt whispered, stumbling out of bed.

        He made his way into the kitchen to find Thomas rummaging through the refrigerator.

        "Thomas?" Newt asked, wondering why the brunette was up so early in the morning.

        Thomas swore, jumping at the sound of Newt's voice. He closed the refrigerator door, and Newt noticed a small, almost sad smile grace his features when his gaze rested on Newt. "Hey," he whispered. "What are you doing up so early?"

        "I could ask you the same thing."

        Thomas looked down at the floor. "It's nothing."

        Newt knew by the body language that something was up, but he decided not to press him. "Well, I fell asleep early last night," Newt said instead, answering Thomas' question. "I didn't eat dinner."

        "I was wondering why I didn't see you at all after school."

        Newt gave a small smile. "Yeah, I was just tired."

        Thomas opened the fridge again, this time pulling out a peach. "Here, have this."

        Newt took the peach, thanked Thomas, and grabbed a seat at the nearby kitchen island. Thomas followed, sitting beside him. "Weren't you going to grab something?" Newt asked, wondering why Thomas had never gotten any food for himself.

        "Nah, I'm not really hungry."

        Newt nodded. "Are you usually up this late?"

        "Sometimes."

        Newt started to eat his peach, feeling a bit awkward that he was the only one eating. He glanced at Thomas and suddenly saw the tiredness of his expression. His eyes were half-lidded, his posture was slouched, and he seemed to be gazing at the counter lazily. Newt felt bad; he knew that Thomas was fighting to be awake, and Newt realized what must have been plaguing the poor boy.

        Nightmares.

        Newt felt himself turn bright pink before he even opened his mouth. Bloody hell, if he got it wrong or if he offended the boy, there would be no way of going back. But, Newt knew he had to do something-  _anything_ \- to help Thomas. So, Newt took a deep breath and blurted out, "I know I've only known you for about a month, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

        There, he had said it. He hung his head low, anticipating some kind of comment about how creepy he was being.

        But, when he felt Thomas' gaze on him, the words that followed were "Thanks, Newt. I need it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone needs to teach me to write longer chapters smh


	6. Dragon

        With every scratch of the pencil on the paper, Newt felt more and more at home. The desk in his room at the Murphy's was perfect for his height, and the chair he was sitting in was just cushiony enough. He loved the little drawers and compartments where he could store his pencils, markers, and erasers, and the smooth surface that let his utensils glide across the pad. With his music playing from his phone, he could completely zone out and dream of his own world, and let his inspiration flow through him like the constant waves of the sea.

        That is until Thomas came pounding at his door.

        Newt opened his door, a bit less than pleased. "What?" He asked Thomas, crossing his arms. 

        And that's when Thomas unleashed his dorky, toothy smile. Complete with dimples and a playful sparkle in his warm, dark eyes, Thomas struck Newt speechless. His gleeful expression made Newt's heart skip a beat. And if that wasn't enough, Thomas added in a casual tone, "I don't know, I just wanted to hang out." With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Thomas awoke something in Newt's heart.

        Sirens blared in Newt's brain. _There is no way in hell that this will end well!_ Newt's brain screamed at him. But, Newt could feel his heart object.  _Give him a chance,_ it said.  _He's pretty and he's offering his company._ Newt's heart seemed to speak for him, making him uncharacteristically stutter a bit. "Yeah, come in," he heard himself reply, backing out of the way for the brunette. "I was just drawing." 

       "Nice, what is it?" Thomas asked, immediately walking over to Newt's cluttered desk. Newt could barely open his mouth to answer before Thomas blurted "Whoa, a dragon!" And Newt stood by his bedroom door, listening to Thomas ramble on about how cool the wings and scales were, how vibrant his colors were, how awesome his shading was. Newt smiled, reveling in the fact that he now had an artist friend. When Thomas asked if he could look through the rest of the sketchbook, Newt immediately nodded without thinking, willing to listen to someone other than his mother  _finally_ appreciate his art.

       After a few minutes of flooding Newt with compliments, Thomas finally shut the sketchbook. "I, uh, I do some art, too," he suddenly started stuttering, making Newt almost laugh at the sudden change of tone.

      "Really? What kind?" Newt asked, sitting down on his bed.

      Thomas sat next to him, blushing. "Well, I don't know if it counts as  _art,_ but I do house designs. Y'know, architecture stuff." His gaze dropped to the bed sheets, and Newt noticed a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks.

      Newt was intrigued; he hadn't expected an athletic boy like Thomas to be into house design. "Really? How long have you been into it?"

      "Since I was twelve-ish." Thomas met Newt's eyes. "You?"

      "Since I can remember, really." Newt was a bit taken aback by how much he was opening up to Thomas. Usually, Newt didn't like opening up to people about his talent until he had known them for months upon end; but for some reason, Thomas' aura made Newt more comfortable. "I started taking art lessons when I was around eight, but I was always into drawing when I was little."

      Thomas smiled. "That's really cute."

      Newt blushed. _Cute?_ "Yeah, I guess."

      "Y'know, my boyfriend said that art wasn't very manly, but I honestly disagree. There's nothing demeaning about a pencil and some paper." Thomas casually lay down, leading Newt to follow. "Maybe I'll show him some of your work if that's okay." 

      Newt was absolutely beside himself. Thomas liked his art that much?! Newt couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with the brunette. "Oh, yeah, sure," he replied, not really knowing how to react.  

      The two boys sat in silence for a few more minutes before Newt sheepishly piped up. "So, uh, what were you up to?'

      "Nothing, really. Just reading." And the two of them were suddenly immersed in conversation about Lord of the Rings, the series that Thomas had just picked up, and Newt had read about a year before. Newt had absolutely loved the series, and Newt could see from the glint in Thomas' eyes and the tone of his voice that Thomas was eager to finally know someone his age who also liked the series (or how much he had read of it so far). And Newt was happy to provide him with the satisfaction. 

      And that was when Newt could feel himself slipping.


	7. George

Next Friday, Newt's favorite class, anatomy, was the period before lunch. He had taken out his phone after the first quiz of the year, having nothing else to pass his time. Almost immediately upon unlocking the device, he got a text, and he thanked every god there might have been that his phone was on silent.

  **From: Thomas  12:25 PM**

Hey wanna meet up at the library at lunch?

        His first text from Thomas. Newt didn't think much of it; he replied with a simple "yeah sure". After all, Newt knew that he and Thomas weren't very close- at least not close enough that they were spilling their darkest secrets to each other. So, when the bell rang five minutes later, Newt packed up his things and grabbed his lunch without much thought, heading down to the library.

        Thomas was leaning against the open library door, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes scanning the sea of students. At the moment of eye contact, he immediately gave a weak smile.

        Newt immediately sensed something wrong. He rushed over to Thomas, stomach filling with butterflies. "What's up, Thomas?" he asked as casually as he could. 

        "Do you mind if we talk in the library?" Thomas replied quietly, making Newt even more worried. 

        Newt let Thomas lead him into the library to a table in the back corner. They put their bags down, and Newt noticed Thomas drumming his fingers nervously on the table once they sat down, and for a brief second, Newt had an urge to hold on to Thomas' hands to make him stop. Newt also couldn't help noticing the way Thomas' cheeks turned a pale pink, and his eyes could barely hold Newt's gaze. "What is it, Thomas?" Newt asked, quieter this time.  

        "Well, I, um," Thomas stuttered, his fingers grasping the table. "George is scaring me." 

        Newt sighed. "How?"

        Thomas glanced around the room before leaning in towards Newt. "He's getting more and more of a control freak. He's always telling me to hang out with him all week, and when I say 'no', he always begs me so much that I feel awful. Like, he's such a nice guy, but I want some time to hang out with friends." With a sigh, he added, "And I want to make sure that you're having fun here, too. I don't want you to go home and tell your mom that I ignored you the whole time."

        Newt could feel his cheeks heating up. "Tommy, don't worry about me." Newt noticed Thomas' eyes widen just as he realized the nickname he had addressed him with. He froze for a few seconds before Thomas smiled, a few of his teeth becoming visible. With that, Newt felt comfortable enough to go on with his thought. "Well, anyway, I think you should just bloody tell him that." 

        And Thomas giggled. The sweetest sound Newt had ever heard filled his ears, and Newt smiled along.

        "Okay, okay," Thomas began, settling down. He cleared his throat. "The thing is, I've tried that already."

        _Then break up with him._ Newt was surprised at the answer that nearly came out of his mouth. He was silent for a moment before saying, "Well, it sounds like he's-"

        "-not respecting me?" Thomas finished, his expression turning sad. "Yeah, people have told me that, too." He sighed and opened his lunch box, pulling out a sandwich. "Speaking of not wanting to ignore you," he began. "Oh, my God, this is going to sound so weird- and I'm sorry- but I really do want to hang out with you more."

        If Newt wasn't blushing already, he was now. "Tommy," he breathed, not knowing how to respond. "I- me, too."

        "Thomas!" A new voice burst into the conversation. The two looked over to see George, towering over the table. "Dude, I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes!"

        "Something came up," Thomas replied coolly, turning his attention to Newt. "Right, Newtie?"

         _Newtie?_ Newt was almost too taken aback by the sudden use of the nickname to answer. "Uh, yeah. He just came to ask me about homework."

        George crossed his arms. "Thomas, you're driving me home from school. And meet me by the lockers when you two are done." With that, George stalked away from the table.

        "I'm staying here," Thomas said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "So, you wanna go bowling tonight? I promise he won't be there."

        Newt smiled. "Of course," he replied, relieved.


	8. Smile

By the time George had stepped into the car, Newt had wanted nothing to do with the boy. George was trying to have some sort of conversation with Thomas, although is was more like a speech the way it was going. George had begun talking everyone's ears off about a time when he went on a cruise and met someone related to someone famous, boring the rest of the car into silence. Newt had silently willed Teresa, who was sitting in the front seat, to turn up the radio volume.

        "Oh, my God, Thomas, you should have gone with us! There was this really cute kid that I hung out with, y'know, the one related to that singer. He had a great voice too, and we did karaoke together. Oh, and we went scuba diving too! You should have seen the fish around there! I felt like I was looking at a rainbow. And when we got to the islands, we went hiking and camping. There were so many bugs, but we found some cool rocks and plants. Oh yeah, that reminds me- we're going camping next weekend! You should come with us!" George finally seemed to take a breath. "Thomas?"

        Newt felt Thomas' head drop onto his shoulder.  _Holy shit, George just talked him to sleep,_ Newt realized, smiling at the thought.

        "Thomas, wake up, sweetie," Ms. Paige said from the front seat, reaching out to shake the brunette's knee.

        "Thomas!" George nearly shouted, shaking Thomas' arm. "Rude," he added, crossing his arms.

        Thomas sighed and opened his eyes. "Sorry, what?"

        The adorable grogginess in Thomas' voice made Newt smile even wider, and he had to look away so George wouldn't see.  

        "I asked if you wanted to go camping with me next weekend."

        To Newt's disappointment, Thomas lifted his head from his shoulder. "Sorry, Newtie and I are going to the movies."

        "I'm your _boyfriend_ , Thomas."

        "And Newt is living with me. I'm going to spend time with him."

        Ms. Paige spoke up again. "Thomas, sweetie, he has a point."

        "Fine. I'll think about it." As he said the words, Newt felt Thomas' head droop back down onto his shoulder.  _I wonder why he isn't cuddling up to George,_ Newt thought.  _Because he still likes him._

 

Newt lounged on his bed, a book in hand. He had been reading for a half an hour, waiting for Thomas to finish whatever he was doing before they went out. Newt had to admit to himself that he was more than a little nervous; butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, and he could barely focus on the book in his lap.  _Why am I so nervous?_ _He's just a friend._ He took a deep breath and closed his book. He supposed that he should go ask Thomas if they were leaving soon, so he got up from his bed.

        When Newt opened his door, he saw Thomas standing by the kitchen island, his attention consumed by his phone. Newt couldn't help admiring how Thomas carried himself; the way he casually crossed his ankles, the way his eyebrows slightly scrunched together when he was concentrating, the way the edges of his lips curled up when he smiled at Newt.

        When he smiled at Newt.

        "Hey, I was just gonna go grab you," Thomas said, shoving his phone into his pocket. "My dad's in the driveway."

        "I was wonderin' when you were gonna get me," Newt retorted, letting out a small chuckle.

        Thomas led Newt outside to the driveway where a black Cadillac sat, humming. Newt couldn't help admiring the sheen of the expensive car; it looked brand new. "My dad's a surgeon," Thomas blurted, seemingly out of nowhere. "If you were wondering how he can get a car so nice."

        Newt nodded, not really sure what to do with the information. He let Thomas lead him up to the car, silent. He wasn't surprised when he sat down on one of the nicest leather car seats he had ever felt. He glanced at Thomas, buckling his seatbelt, and the brunette raised his eyebrows with a look of  _I told you so._ The two shared a small smile, and Newt immediately felt himself blush. _Just a friend._

        Newt had met Mr. Janson Murphy, Thomas' father, a few times since he had arrived in America. He was a very logical, critical man; Newt couldn't help but notice the way Mr. Murphy looked at him like he was trying to figure out what his inner motives were. Newt, even though he didn't have any suspicious aims, couldn't help but feel guilty under the father's gaze. Newt was extremely happy that Thomas hadn't inherited the cold spirit of his father.

        Aside from Janson asking his son a few small questions, the car ride was silent. Newt could feel the tension in the car between father and son. He noticed the serious expression Thomas wore; scrunched eyebrows, a pouty mouth, crossed arms- the look made Newt feel a twang of sadness for the boy. Newt was scared to speak until Mr. Murphy had dropped them off at the bowling alley. 

        As the car drove away, Newt noticed Thomas' tense posture seemly melted away. The muscles on his face relaxed, his hands casually stuffed themselves in his jean pockets, and- Newt's favorite part- Thomas' grin returned.The smile sent waves of peace through Newt, as if reassuring him that everything was fine. It was the sweetest smile Newt had ever seen, and he never wanted to see it go away.

        Right then, Newt made it his job to keep Thomas happy, no matter what.


	9. Bowling

A split. A bloody  _split_. Even with the rails up, Newt managed to get a  _split_. He shook his head. He thought that he was better than that. He turned to see Thomas sitting on the edge of his seat, his arms resting on his thighs and a big grin on his face. "Don't you dare start laughing," he joked, an embarrassed smile breaking through. But Thomas laughed anyway; the sweet, carefree sound was contagious, and Newt found himself chuckling.

        "You're really not that bad," Thomas said, leaning back in the seat. "You still have a ball left. I'm sure you'll hit _one_ of the pins."

        So, Newt rolled the ball, and it bounced off of the rails just enough so it missed the left pin. He rolled his eyes and made for the seats. "There goes that," he said, defeated. It had been the last frame, and if he had gotten that one pin in the end, he could have tied the game. 

        Well, they had one game left- he'd make this one count. He looked over at Thomas. "I'm winnin' this time," he challenged, suddenly feeling a little daring.

        Thomas met his gaze, his warm, chocolate eyes making Newt's heart skip a beat and his flash of confidence disappear. "Over my dead ass," he retorted, a devious smirk making Newt's stomach flop. "Speaking of asses," he began, getting up and launching a ball down the lane. It struck nine pins. "How do I get rid of one?"

         _George!_ Newt felt himself smirk; then, immediately feeling guilty, he bit his lip. "Considering he never shuts up, I don't know." Newt felt the sudden need to stand up and stretch. He had absolutely  _no bloody idea_ why. He felt Thomas' gaze scan him, and he felt his stomach flutter.

        Thomas bowled his second ball, knocking over the tenth pin. "I was thinking about just dragging him over to the lockers during lunch or something and then just tell him." He turned to Newt. "Do you think that would work?"

        Newt shrugged, walking over and grabbing a bowling ball. "I don't know. I'm not experienced in break-ups."

        "Really?"

        Newt suddenly thought of Gally, his only serious ex-boyfriend. His stomach dropped, and when he threw the ball, it curved lazily, hitting a few pins on the left side. "I've really only had one," he admitted, throwing a second ball almost as badly.

        "She dumped you?"

        " _He_ dumped me." Newt sighed, the shaky intake obvious enough that when he turned, Thomas' sad puppy face appeared. And as Newt walked over, he told himself to just sit back down and not get Thomas involved; he already had someone to worry about. But, he ignored his mind and went with his heart- he threw his arms around Thomas and dug his face into his neck. He took in Thomas' warmth as the brunette enclosed him in his arms. Newt told himself that he _wo_ _uldn't_ clutch Thomas so tightly because he was still dating someone- but he did anyway, taking handfuls of his shirt and squeezing. He also knew that he shouldn't be melting into Thomas' touch as the boy caressed his back softly, but he did anyway as Thomas' fingers graced the length of his spine. Another shaky breath threatened tears, so Newt pulled away slowly, reluctantly, his hands coming to rest on Thomas' shoulders. "Sorry," he croaked out, looking down at his feet. 

        Thomas' hands anchored themselves at Newt's hips. "Newt, look at me." Newt lifted his gaze to meet the brunette's, his heart pounding. It was all he could do to stay collected as the brunette said, "Don't apologize for how you feel."

 

Newt was glad to be back at the house a half hour later. He had nearly fallen asleep on the ride home. He quickly changed into his pajamas and practically threw himself on to the bed. But before he could climb under his covers, he heard a soft knock on his door. "Come in," he said, sitting up.

        The door opened to reveal Thomas on the other side. The boy stepped into the room, a small smile forming on his lips. "Hey," he casually greeted, sitting down at the edge of Newt's bed.

        "Hey," Newt repeated, yawning. "What's up?"

        "I don't know. I just wanted to see how you were doing." Thomas found a speck of fuzz and dropped it over the edge of the bed. 

        "Tired," Newt managed to say, yawning again.

        Thomas nodded. "You feeling okay otherwise?"

        Newt shrugged. He was fine, but he felt a bit lonely because of the reminders of Gally earlier in the night. "Guess so."

        Thomas held his gaze, and Newt knew that his eyes spilled his feelings out for Thomas to see. "Why don't you sleep upstairs tonight? I have an air mattress I can sleep on."

        Newt wanted to refuse. What good would it do for him to sleep in a different bed? But, against his better judgement, Newt accepted Thomas' offer, and was led upstairs to the other boy's bedroom.

        Soon, Newt found himself curled up under Thomas' blankets. He lay close to the edge of the bed, able to see Thomas splayed out under a couple of blankets. He had pulled the air mattress out from under his bed, fully inflated. The mattress never went far; Thomas pulled it up right next to the bed Newt was sleeping in. At the sight of Thomas sleeping below him, Newt smiled. "Thanks, Tommy," he mumbled, letting himself drift into a restful sleep.


End file.
